So I'm usually not overly fond to the idea of vampires meshing with PotO, but one of the few fanfics I genuinely enjoyed with this theme was "Paris After Midnight" by Crimson Siyrean. Sadly while a great story it's discontinued and likely won't be continued since it hasn't been updated since 2005. For some reason reading the story this following scenario popped in my head. You don't need to necessarily read PAM to understand what's happening in this one shot but I highly recommend you do as it's unfinished but still a very good read. Obviously this drabble has my own sprinkled writing style and descriptions of Erik and Christine and will likely vary from Crimson's interpretation, so I hope despite this it's still enjoyable.
I do not own PotO or the fanfiction "Paris After Midnight", any characters mentioned belong to their respective owners.
In the coffin, Erik tossed about. As it was he already had a difficult time sleeping. The masked man was quite lucky to get four hours without awaking from another nightmare or restless need to continue his craft
But this insomnia was brought on by the still healing marks on his throat.
The reality of what Christine was-or rather what she had become-had long since sunken in. Since he had seen that crazed look in her eyes as the poor girl dug her hands into her scalp violently, the elongated teeth that peeked out from below her upper lip, and the slight dribble of Erik's own blood down the side of her mouth.
It was appalling. The Phantom's lone protege, his one muse and only pure contribution to this world was unclean and soiled by the clutches of darkness. Erik had hoped he alone would be condemned to wallow in such a state as she was. But while he felt as though he had a right to be albeit disgusted, a pull on Erik's psyche ached for more.
That numb pleasure he had felt just hours ago. It had been blinding pain at first, he was so lost in the kisses they shared only moments before that part. He had not expected for her to sink her teeth into his throat as she had. But the moment it happened, the Opera Ghost who seemed to have an escape and answer to everything was paralyzed and his mind drawing a blank.
But feeling her cling to him and sucking the life out of him, Erik in that moment of haze only questioned why she decided to stop.
A life so alone and without true purpose-with the exception of his long consuming music-held no true worth in existing. If his former angel could extinguish that flame that was his existence, it would be a peace to him.
Even if she refused to let him die just that numb feeling of bliss, the deathly kiss of ecstasy, the Phantom absolutely ached for it again.
"Christine..." He felt himself moan.
Christine had very little belongings to her person, but what she had was put away and packed to leave. She could not stay and risk Erik's life further. Not after she had finally told him the truth. If Catherine found out about her hideaway, the man would truly become a REAL ghost and be killed.
Even if not by Catherine's hand, if the girl was not careful her teacher's blood could be on her own hands. Already she could not believe what she had done, in absolute disgust with herself. She hardly remembered that moment, lost to both hunger and the heat of Erik's teasing kisses upon her skin.
He would surely throw her out at any rate. Why would he want to keep such a thing in his home. The Christine Daae he let go to be free all those years, the angel who made his song take wing, that girlish pure creature was gone. Replaced by this earthbound wretch of a demon in His Christine's corporeal form.
The last thing she searched for before departing was that bracelet. Raoul's final parting gift to her, the one Erik asked of her just minutes before she attacked him. She had begun the task of vigorously searching the parlor to every nook and drawer.
"But it's only a piece of jewelry. Simply a strand of metal, hammered out by some unknown peon, with a few rocks pressed in. Surely a thing could not be so invaluable as to risk your life for?"
Christine cringed at those hollow callous words. In reality Erik was right, it was a reminder of one of her last memories with Raoul before he died.
But all the same, did she really need a cold piece of metal and gems to remember her late husband?
"Christine,"
She was pulled out of her thoughts to the familiar tenor's voice. But she did not turn around to Erik's call.
"Christine..." He called again, she could hear the slight tap of his dress shoes against the floor. "You look as though you're in a hurry."
"I must leave Erik," Christine proclaimed. "It is safer this way."
The masked man snorted. "Hardly, if anything you say is true you are condemning yourself to a death sentence returning above ground."
"It is safer this way for you."
Erik laughed, "Safer for me? Forgive me my dear, but I don't recall asking for safety nor protection. You on the other hand have sought that since the night I found you collapsed outside my home."
"Your protection is no longer needed." Christine stated, "This is not your choice to make. You cannot make me-"
"Christine." His strides grew faster and longer. When she did turn around he was almost nose to nose with her. She tried ducking backward, but she ran out of room feeling her back pressed against a canopy draped wall. She could feel his hot breath against her cold skin, the sweet song of his heartbeat, a pounding percussion of drum's in the brunette's ears.
"Erik I cannot-" But Christine was silenced by his malformed lips overtaking hers. Desperate ache and want were felt in this kiss, and forgetting all about Catherine, Raoul, or the bracelet in that one moment of heat and weakness felt herself succumb to the kiss.
She tried to pull away in between "Erik," She panted. "No. We can't, this isn't-"
But her protests were muffled again by those bloated uneven wine colored lips. Christine's mind cried out for her to pull away-she had more than enough strength to shove the mortal man away and flee back above. This was her fault she knew, she had kissed him first, kindled the flame she thought was extinguished.
She wished Erik didn't love her anymore, it would be safer for him if this were the case.
Oh, he was too close, the arms around her and the heat radiating off him filled her up. But she wanted more, that pull within her craving more from him.
And then she felt a strong arm pull her head down to the crook of his neck.
"Erik? What..." Christine raspy and dumbfounded gasped. She couldn't, no not again!
"You need it Christine," Erik mumbled, "I know it, I want it."
"No!" She tried to pull away as that hunger was driving her all the more closer, practically clinging to his body.
"Why deny it when you were so close the last time?" The Opera Ghost asked, refusing to move. Knowing the full extent of what she was capable of, he knew she would do it, if not why was she not throwing him across the room away from her presence?
Erik could feel cold small lips place a feather kiss along his ear, easing down more.
"Christine..." He truly was begging for that deathly release, "Please Christine"
He felt her lips graze along the previous bite marks. His breath hitched in his throat feeling the girl's tongue slink out to trail along the wound.
Christine's teeth ached, feeling them extend within her gums. So close and so willing...
Her hand gripped the back of her teacher's head, fingers tangled in the copse of his wig. The other hand gripped the lapel of Erik's tailcoat.
It was as though a simple harmony emanated from his vocal cords as Christine's fangs sank deep into Erik's throat.
His back arched, his whole body stiffened at Christine's advance. His knee's wavered and began to fail him as the mortal man sank to his knees and onto his back, his ingenue still gripping him tight.
His eyes rolled back, mouth parted with a weak groan escaping him. His legs and arms felt numb and his body doubled over in pleasure that seemed to surpass the stabbing pain in his neck.
Christine greedily drank, the hot liquid flowing freely down her throat. She silenced the moral cry in her head screaming for her to stop, crying out that this a terrible thing she had done two fold now.
Releasing her mouth from his throat, Christine with her eyes ablaze continued the assault further. Erik's chest heaved up and down as she loosened off his white-now red speckled-bowtie, pulling open the first few buttons of his dress shirt. Her teeth met flesh again as the masked man gasped, now leaving a fresh puncture just below his collarbone.
Erik's held lulled back and forth as his misshapen lips formed a content smile.
Rolling back the suit sleeve, the brunette bit down again, now afflicting the man's wrist. teeth marks and blood plaguing Erik's body.
She only paused when she heard the drumming heartbeat in her ears falter.
Her senses returning, Christine felt her chest heave with panic as Erik's arm fell lifelessly from her grasp. His heart was becoming so slow now, too slow.
"Erik!" She gasped, all but straddling his waist to crawl to his side. His breathing was low and shallow, small wease like moans escaping his parted lips.
"No. No I didn't. It wasn't suppose to be that much!" She mumbled, gripping his now chill hand in hers. "Erik you can't!" Christine knew what she had done could not be reversed. She had drained the man of too much blood in her lust induced haze. In a few moments Erik would indeed die.
Shaking her head, her fingernails gripping her scalp hard she wanted to scream. What more could she possibly do.
And yet, glancing at the few specks of blood that now stained the carpet, only one thought of desperation came to mind.
Tearing into her own wrist with her teeth, she beckoned it to Erik's mouth. He mumbled in coherently but the blood merely smeared down his chin.
"Erik, there isn't time..." She pleaded, desperate. She already lost Raoul, she could not lose her angel too.
"Just one last kiss Erik. Just one last time." Whispering to him as she desperate cradled his head. Albeit weak-his heart ever the more slowing down-she felt a nod of approval. His arm weakly reaching blindly for her. Taking the bloody wound to her own mouth, she pulled Erik up to her, closing her mouth over his. With ease she let the pool of blood in her mouth flow into his. She could feel some resistance when he realized some foreign substance was being force fed to him, but similarly to what he had done earlier, she held him in place. With no option but for his body to obey, Erik swallowed the liquid, finding not so distasteful. His tongue darted out seeking more.
Christine let go of his lips with a shudder, bringing the wrist back up to him malformed lips. This time Erik accepted and blind through the grip of death drank his fill of the cursed blood in turn. Just moments after this though, she felt Erik's legs kick her away as he doubled back crawling away.
His shriek seemed to pierce the still air, the masked man convulsed in pain on the ground. As if being prodded by hot pokers, Erik gripped whatever he could, teeth were clenched tight, his throat now on fire.
Christine was told the change could be painful. While not always and on whatever reason, for males in particular she had been foretold it was a blinding moment of agony. Possibly this was due to a strong will or instinctual determination to stay alive.
When Erik stopped moving altogether, Christine's heart sank down lower than the furthest cellar below the opera.
She had failed, the brunette just couldn't bare it. She wasn't strong enough or she had pushed Erik to far to the point of death to cheat it. She hugged her shoulders tight as she wailed, tears an endless stream down her chilled cheeks.
She had curled in on herself, wanting to rip the entire parlor apart, tear all of her hair out. Something to subdue this sorrow and rage, but she merely curled up there.
Unsure what time it was, if Christine had been awake in some comatose state of mind or actually fallen asleep, she finally staggered to her feet. She dare not glance at Erik's body, her biggest failure come to pass. Raoul was gone, and now her Phantom was gone. Nothing now remained.
What was she to do now? What to do with Erik? If she were to bury him, she'd had have to drag both of them above ground. Something that would be incredibly dangerous at this point. Christine dared not consider leaving Erik in the lake, among the likely many victims of 'the siren' that he foretold had costed the end to many intruders lives.
And her own fate was one to concern. Christine had absolutely nothing left, was there any use fighting anymore? Perhaps a willing surrender was her only option, now that everything she loved was gone. Everyone that she-
She shrieked falling over on her backside however, feeling something brush up against her ankle.
Christine groaned at the impact, but soon came over this to stare at the musician hand that ever so slightly twitched, fingers curling around the spot her foot had been.
In a fluid motion, Erik's shoulders rolled back with a pop, his chest heaving forward. The man now risen in a sitting position he stared back at Christine.
His eyes rimmed with what appeared to be a red glow around those familiar mismatch irises.
"Christine," Erik was agape, he could feel something sharp in his gums scraping against his bloated lips.
She gasped as within a second he had her propped up against the stone wall, close enough that the mask stained with a smear of blood was just inches from touching her.
"Christine, what have you done to me?!"
